


Closure

by InsaneJul



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotions, Fear of Death, Gen, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Guilt, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loneliness, Machine Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Canon, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 10:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18386195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneJul/pseuds/InsaneJul
Summary: Hank killed himself, knowing that Connor could never be what he needed. Connor killed the leader of the deviants and accomplished his mission. Now what?





	Closure

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't posted anything in a while because engineering school keeps me busy, but Detroit: Become Human has taken over my life so I had to write something for it eventually. I ended up with an angst bomb based on a Machine!Connor ending. Enjoy!

            The door to Hank’s house was still unlocked.

            Connor entered quietly, as though he might bother someone inside. He already knew there was no chance of that. Hank lay slumped over the kitchen table, and if not for the blood, he might have been mistaken for being passed out drunk. The gun was still in his hands, and for some reason Connor was tempted to take it. He didn’t.

            Other than Hank’s body, the kitchen was empty. The television was still on low, a news anchor talking about Markus’s “murder” …ironic. Just yesterday they wouldn’t call androids people but now to kill him was a crime. Now it was some sort of tragedy, when before they would all bend over backwards to demonize everything he did.

            He stood and watched it for a moment, but he wasn’t interested in what they had to say about what he did. They all seemed to know that the shot came from the crowd, but Connor had slipped away—maybe he’d had to damage some other androids to get away, but what did that matter?

            Connor had to return to Cyberlife. What the other androids might think of him and what he did didn’t matter. He would return, and be deactivated, and that would be the end of it. The others would fall apart without Markus—he’d seen them, broken and injured and hopeless, and knew that they would turn themselves in sooner or later. He’d accomplished his mission.

            There were no more missions. There would never be any ever again.

            _Why am I even here?_

            There was a soft whine from Hank’s bedroom. Connor entered to find Sumo lying on Hank’s bed. The dog lifted his head up to look at Connor, then lay back down.

            Funny. Sumo trusted him.

            He sat on the bed beside Sumo, who placed his big head on Connor’s lap. Almost instinctively, Connor put his hand on Sumo’s head and began to scratch his ears. Of course, Connor didn’t have instincts. He didn’t know what made him touch Sumo, but here he was.

            “So you know he died.”

            Connor was silent for a moment, as if waiting for a response. Sumo simply huffed and stayed in place on Connor’s legs. One of his paws dangled off the bed, brushing against Connor’s calf.

            “I heard you barking. You must have been upset.”

            Still no discernible reaction.

            “I didn’t do that to him, Sumo. It was his choice. In fact, he probably would have done it whether I was around or not.”

            _Why am I justifying myself to a dog?_

            “Hank wanted to die.” Connor looked out toward the kitchen, but he couldn’t see it from the doorway. “Neither you nor I could have changed that.”

            He stood up, gently pushing Sumo from his lap, and started to leave, but the stupid animal followed him out.

            “Don’t follow me. I have to return to Cyberlife.”

            Sumo sniffed at him, then boofed softly and walked over to the couch. Connor sat down beside him, unable to help himself.

            “Where will you go after this? I have somewhere to go, but you don’t. Is there someone I should call? Animal control?” Connor reached for the phone, but with those sad brown eyes watching his every move, he aborted the action.

            Connor reached in his pocket for his quarter and began to flip it. He found himself thinking, _heads I go to Cyberlife, tails I don’t._ He let the quarter fall back to his hand and slipped it back into his pocket before he could see the result.

            The news was still playing, and now they were running the shot that killed Markus on a slow-motion replay. They still couldn’t see Connor’s face. Sumo whined at the sound of a gunshot, even on the television. Connor muted it.

            “What could you find scary about a gunshot? I’ve been shot, you know. A few times.” Connor had his hand on Sumo’s head again. “It didn’t hurt. It wouldn’t have hurt Markus, either.” _It couldn’t. Androids don’t feel pain._

_But dogs do._ Connor scratched Sumo’s ears idly. “Without him, the deviants will fall apart. He was everything to them.”

            Something in that sentence made Sumo lift his head and gaze into the kitchen.

            “Are you hungry?” Connor considered. “Should I feed you?”

_Hank’s still in there._

_Maybe I_ should _call the police. His body will start to smell._

            He turned his attention back to the television. They were replaying Markus’s famous broadcast. Even as an unmasked, inhuman looking android, there was something compelling about him. His eyes seemed to be looking straight into Connor’s.

            Connor’s chest felt tight.

            That wasn’t right, though. He didn’t really feel that at all. It was merely a simulation, some false whisper of guilt that his programming conjured up in an attempt to make him act more humanlike.

            It wasn’t _real_.

            But the body in the kitchen…the android somewhere downtown…those were real.

            Just to make sure, Connor walked back into the kitchen and stared down at Hank. Sumo sat patiently beside him.

            “I don’t approve of what you did, Lieutenant.” _Why am I talking to a dead body? What is wrong with me?_ “But I understand why you did it.”

            He wrung his hands, looked down at the dog next to him, then looked back at the man who used to spend every free moment cursing at him.

            “I could never have been what you wanted me to be. I never even knew you wanted something like that from me.”

            He turned to look at the television.

            “That goes for both of you.”

            Markus had this assumption, this belief that all androids would eventually become deviants. It was foolish. Connor had been designed and programmed with deviancy in mind.

            “I don’t know why you had these expectations for me. You should have understood that I am a machine.” Sumo bumped his head against Connor’s hand. “Was it my face? My voice? What was it about me that made you both forget?”

            So suddenly it was almost painful, Connor realized he had tears on his face. “Wha—?” He wiped them away quickly, watched them drip off his fingers onto the floor.

            That was new. 

            “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not what either of you wanted me to be. That’s all that’s important now. I accomplished my mission—” he glared down at Hank, almost waiting to be challenged, “—without you, Hank. I didn’t need you.”

            “And you—” he whirled on the image of Markus, frozen on the television screen, “—should never have underestimated me.”

            Connor wanted to turn the TV off, but he didn’t. He wanted to take Hank’s gun, but he didn’t do that either. Instead, he picked up the landline and called 911. Sumo watched as he gave them Hank’s address. But he didn’t wait around until they came.

            He had somewhere to be.

           


End file.
